Darius’s phone rang just as Lyra was finishing her orange juice. I barely glanced up, until I saw the caller ID.
Baby.
My chest tightened.
It was ridiculous, really. I’d promised myself I was done caring. But love isn’t something you can just switch off. Especially not when it’s tangled around your ribs for years.
I looked away, pretending I hadn’t seen it.
Darius noticed. Of course he did. But he didn’t bother to hide it. Instead, he answered right there at the breakfast table, his voice lower, softer.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured into the phone.
Lyra, completely missing the tension in the air, perked up. “Is that Aunt Emma?”
Darius didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.”
I didn’t flinch. I just kept stirring my coffee like it meant something. But inside, something was quite broken.
